Rhythm
by cherrygurl1225
Summary: They rise and fall to a rhythm. Written for the hc bingo prompt "unexpected pregnancy" on LJ.


**Tru Calling: Rhythm**

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Written for the **hc_bingo prompt **"_unexpected pregnancy_" on LJ.

* * *

They rise and fall to a rhythm.

Slim fingers shake violently as she pulls the trigger. The cacophony of the gunshot that rings out into the open air deafens her for the briefest of moments.

It is her hand that pulls the trigger, her hand that trembles when she lowers the gun, an aghast expression creasing her pale face.

She turns away, not out of respect, but out of mortification. What has she done?

_What have I done?_

She cannot bear to look at the body on the ground, crimson painted over his heart and baby blue eyes that have now turned glassy, cold. Her ex-boyfriend, a soulless serial killer, who came close one too many times to taking her own life now lies dead on the ground, an essence no longer pumping through him.

"Tru," a voice calls, the voice of Death, of certainty.

Of reason.

The gun is on the ground and her hands cover her face as tears run down her colorless cheeks. His footsteps shuffle closer and he wraps his thick jacket around her quivering form. Carefully, he puts a finger beneath her chin and moves her face upward until their eyes meet, glowing pupils dancing in the illuminated streetlights.

"I'll take care of the rest," he whispers quietly. "Go."

She shudders again, eyes wide with pensive vulnerability, and he wraps his jacket even tighter around her as his fingers lightly caress her cheek. "I'll take care of the rest, Tru," he repeats. "I promise."

And, without turning back, she disappears into the night. She doesn't know what will happen next or where Jensen Ritchie's death will lead them. All she knows is that she trusts the tender reassurance of Jack Harper's soothing voice.

* * *

Her hand hooks around his neck, fingers sliding upwards to feel the barely visible scar from the bullet that nearly cost him his life, but found him his calling, his destiny, his opposition instead.

His hand glides along her ribcage up to her shoulder and neck as he takes his time exploring her curves.

Though they've been in this place before, the joining of two bodies – of two souls – each time he lowers her to the mattress or his head hits the pillow as her hand strikes his chest with virulent force, they fall back into the same rhythm.

Sometimes it's gentle; sometimes it's angry passion. But each time, they are drawn together by an unwavering spark of magnetism, the unwavering attraction having started months before the death of Jensen.

On the nights when the passion created between them does not pull them beneath the sheets of soft cotton, she simply entwines her fingers with his, rests her head on his sturdy shoulder and lets her eyes close. He sits there, sighing with deep contentment and the soft breath he expels gently ruffles her brown hair. Sometimes, he'll fall asleep like this, too. But other times, he takes her into his arms and carries her to his bed, letting her rest there while he takes the couch.

She never calls him her boyfriend; he never calls her his girlfriend. But there's an unspoken understanding between them, a sense of trust built upon by learning truth from deception.

With Jensen's death now behind them, something in their relationship shifts. Something feels different. A new twist in their relationship begins to form.

Neither of them see it coming.

* * *

Tru Davies places a hand on the swell of her stomach when she feels a kick. It's brief, abrupt. But it makes her skin tingle and her mouth curves into a small smile.

"Baby's kicking again," she comments as she looks over at Jack who's sitting opposite her, with a table between them, reading the newspaper.

He glances away from his paper, looking deep into her inviting brown eyes.

"Are you nervous?"

"I'm scared," she replies honestly. "It's not like I've done this before. And it's not like I planned for this either."

Setting the paper down, he reaches across the table to take her hand in his and softly runs his thumb along her knuckles.

"Well, I guess that means we're in this together."

She smiles at his answer, a light pink coloring her cheeks. Then her smile turns into a playful grin.

"I still have dibs that Baby Davies is a girl," she says confidently.

He chuckles. "Now here's where we're gonna have to agree to disagree. We're having a boy."

Standing, he walks around the table and offers her a hand up. When she takes it and stands up, his lips find hers and he pulls her as close to him as he can, kissing her deeply.

She pulls back slightly, grinning against his lips. "I still say it's a girl."

"Touché," Jack replies as he takes her hand and leads her back inside the apartment they now share.

They rise and fall to a rhythm.

_Fin. _


End file.
